Promise Me
by flyingfishbird
Summary: When the team gets the call of a murdered Marine, they get more than they bargained for when they find a new friend who carries a secret in her pocket that will send the whole team into a tailspin.
1. Chapter 1

"Tony! So help me, if you pick that straw up one more time I'll shove it up your-"

"But Ziva, your reaction is priceless. Therefore, I have no reason to stop." Tony said with a pompous smirk as he lifted the straw to his lips and sent a quick puff of air through the hollow object. This sent a small wad of saliva moisturized paper at Ziva's forehead. Instinctively, Ziva's arms swung wildly in front of her face, trying to stop the small projectile, but to no avail. The ball hit the intended target right between the eyes. The scene from beginning to its satisfying end sent Tony into a fit of maniacal laughter, causing him to double over as his diaphragm worked.

Tony's laughter was short lived as he came up for air and felt an enemy spitball smack and lodge itself on the corner of his mouth. He looked around in a sort of frenzy until his eyes rested on the now chuckling McGee. Tony mocked the young agent's giggle.

"You think this is funny, Probie?" Tony asked, scratching the disgusting wad of spit from his face but for some reason it wasn't coming off. He remained confused until he saw the superglue bottle resting in the edge of McGee's desk. Ziva must have noticed it at the same time because at that moment she also erupted into a fit of giggles that put McGee's to shame.

"Now I think it's funny." Said the still laughing agent who sat with a new sense of pride at his desk. An air high five was exchanged between Ziva and McGee as they watched their compatriot still attempt to scratch the stuck piece of paper from his face.

The light moment didn't last long as a new figures presence was made known by the ding of the elevator. An older man who was probably in his late 40's stepped out. His salt and pepper hair made him look older along with the fact that he always seemed to keep it at a medium fade, if not higher. Former Marine. Clearly. His piercing eyes could have quieted a room at an instant, and it usually did. He stepped into the bullpen with a sense of purpose, not bothering to look at the rest of his team.

"Grab your gear." He commanded in an official tone. "We got a dead Marine just outside of Norfolk." He didn't pause as he grabbed gear of his own and began walking to the elevator that he came from, expecting and knowing that the rest of his team would follow suit. He took little interest in what had been happening before he arrived until suddenly he stopped in front of Tony.

"You got a little something right here, DiNozzo." The obvious leader pointed to his own face to indicate where the _something_ was on the other agent.

"Thanks, boss…"

. . .

By the time they arrived at the apartment where the Marine was killed, Tony had rubbed nearly half of the spitball from his face, and also a little bit of skin. He sent cold glares toward McGee who he hadn't spoken a word to since they left the base. This didn't seem to bother McGee as much as Tony had hoped.

Gibbs directed everyone on their jobs even though, unfortunately, they knew the drill all too well. McGee was to take pictures of the body along with any evidence found at the scene. DiNozzo looking for evidence anywhere he could possibly come up with. Ducky and Palmer were examining the body to come up with a time of death which they would find to be around 10:30 that morning. Ziva would be left interviewing the husband with Gibbs, who at this point was an absolute wreck.

His name was Richard Frost, a real estate agent who was allegedly working with a house five miles away during the time of the murder. Frost stood at about six feet two inches and had not one indication of facial hair. His face gleamed with a strange boyish look that was made more evident by the thick, excruciatingly dark hair that clung to his scalp. Ziva wondered if the waves in it were natural or if he used a metric shit ton of product to make it look like that. He did seem to be working on a prominent beer gut in any case.

"What was your wife's name, Mr. Frost?" Ziva asked calmly as she held a little pad of paper and a pencil, waiting for information worthy enough to be written down. Which in most cases, is all of it.

Between feeble sobs, Richard said, "He-Her name was S-Sara. Sara Fro-Frost." He moaned and covered his face with his hands, as if shielding himself from the gruesome scene just above them.

"Does anyone else live here?" Gibbs asked patiently. He didn't have enough time to let Mr. Frost gain his composure. He just hoped he would find it along the way. He was surprised when this question looked like it had done the trick. He watched as Frost slowly took his hands away from his face and inhaled deeply before saying,

"Her fucking demon of a kid. Hell, it's not even her damn kid. My wife adopted her."

"You didn't?" Ziva asked, just as surprised as Gibbs at the sudden change.

"I met Sara a few months after she adopted the creature." His voice was filled with venom. "I told her that she should send her back to wherever the fuck she came from but Sara refused. I loved her, so I had to tolerate the brat."

"So, I've got demon, creature and brat." Gibbs interrupted Frost's rant. "Does she go by any other names?"

Frost sighed. "Robyn. Robyn Porter. The little shit refused to take my name after I married Sara."

"Couldn't imagine why." Ziva said under her breath. Gibbs was the only one to hear and he just glanced her way with those frozen eyes. This made her give an apologetic look as the conversation continued.

"Where is Robyn now?" This question came from Gibbs.

"Hell if I know. She disappears. Sometimes for days. She's always out doing weird stuff. If you ask me, I bet she's on drugs. I bet that's what got Sara killed!" The boyish look was gone from Frost. What was left neither Gibbs or Ziva could place. But, it left them both with a cold lurch in the pit of their stomachs.

"Does she even know what happened?" Ziva's turn now.

"Well, I sure haven't told her. Guess she will have a bit of a surprise when she comes walking through, huh?" Ziva thought she saw the faintest smirk twitch at the corner of Frost's mouth. She hated him.

"How old is she?"

"Fifteen." He paused. "Oh, wait. Sixteen. Sara bought it books for its birthday a month ago."

"Did she ever do anything to make you feel this way about her?" Gibbs asked, not understanding the hatred that someone could have for a child.

"She's got this look. Like she knows something we don't. All the damn time. Like she's smarter. And I'm telling you, when she goes out, she's got to be doing some weird stuff. I've never seen her with one friend besides this one boy who looks like the type to play D&D every weekend." He knew that his point wasn't hitting home. "You just have to see for yourself. If she even comes back. She's probably on the run."

Ziva just shook her head as Gibbs continued with the Q&A which lasted a few more minutes before Frost asked if he could step outside to get some air. The agents agreed.

The apartment was located on the first floor. Frost opened a sliding glass door that opened facing the main road of the neighborhood. They had barely touched the sidewalk when they saw what looked like a teenage girl come riding up on a beaten-up bicycle. In its prime it was probably a gleaming silver, but now it was worn to a washed out grey with specks of copper colored rust eating away at the handle bars and most parts of the main body. The spokes were no better. The bike's plague.

The girl had an army green backpack secured to her shoulders. It looked as if she was returning from school but the time was rapidly approaching 8:00 pm and the sun had almost completely set. The agents could barely make out her features as she rode all the way up the sidewalk and hopped off the bike while it was still in motion, keeping a firm grip on the handlebars and began walking beside it.

"Where the fuck were you?!" Richard shouted. His rage fell on deaf ears and that's when he noticed the wires protruding down from her ears, hidden by her deep red hair. She leaned her decrepit bike on the side of the apartment and that's when Richard came up behind her and yanked the earbuds out roughly.

The girl let out a sound of shock and spun around to face her unwanted roommate. "What the fuck, Dick?" She shouted, immediately infuriated.

"Why don't you go inside and look at what you've done? It's your fault!" Richard snapped back. Gibbs and Ziva just watched this unfold. Both were confused, having no idea how this had escalated the way it did.

"Fuck you! I haven't been home! What did you do? Piss on the carpet and looking for someone to pin it on before Sara finds out?" She was antagonizing him. And she was doing a good job.

Richard grabbed her by the arm, squeezing hard, but the girl refused to let him see that it hurt. "Go…inside. Right now!" He growled through clenched teeth.

"Hey!" Gibbs shouted. This scared the girl. She hadn't seen the agents when she rode up. Richard immediately let go and stepped away, giving Gibbs space to step in front of the still fuming teenager. "That's enough." He now got a pretty good look at her. Light freckles dusted the bridge of her nose. She had hair a shade of red that many girls would be jealous of and attempt to copy it through dyeing. But her eyes. Gibbs saw the look that Frost had been talking about but he had been very wrong. This wasn't the look of someone who thinks they are better. It was the look of someone who has experienced so much pain that the look of knowing how things were going to end would be permanently burned in their eyes forever. Those strange, bright blue eyes.

"Who are you? One of Dick's friends?" She asked, accusing.

"No." Gibbs answered simply. Then he turned slightly to look at the still fuming Richard. "I think you should wait inside, Mr. Frost."

He looked like he was about to argue, but the look on Gibbs' face told him that it was better not to.

"I'll walk you in." Ziva offered, although it wasn't exactly an option. When they both disappeared through the doorway, Gibbs turned back to the girl.

"Robyn?"

"Yeah." She answered tentatively. "What's going on?"

Gibbs sighed, knowing that this wasn't going to be easy. "My name is Special Agent Gibbs, from NCIS." The sun had gone down but even though he couldn't see the details of her face anymore, he was almost sure he watched it go stark white.

"No." She said matter of factly. "No fucking way. This is some joke that that asshole put you up to! Get out of here! I'm going to call the police if you don't leave!" She was shouting, her hands slowly clenched into fists. He gave her a look of sympathy but Robyn didn't want any of it. It made her sick.

"I'm the federal police." Gibbs said with a sigh. "This isn't a trick."

"Stop! She's a Marine! She wouldn't have let anyone kill her!" She paused. Her mind was racing, trying to figure it out. It's a puzzle. That's all. Some weird, terrible puzzle. She was good at those. She could figure it out. "She's not dead." She was back to denial.

"Rob-"

"Move!" All of a sudden, she pushed passed Gibbs. It was unexpected but Gibbs still reached out to catch her. He got his grip on her backpack. It was almost as if she had known he was going to do that because she didn't slow down. She put her arms back behind her and just let the pack fall from her and into the hands of the NCIS agent and continued running in to the apartment.

"Sara!" She shouted as she sprinted from room to room, avoiding the female agent swiftly. That was when she ran down the hallway to the bedrooms. DiNozzo had been in the hallway and heard the commotion. He put his arms out and planted his feet in preparation of the impact that would be the teenage girl. Except, it didn't come. He had shut his eyes in anticipation, but when he opened them, the girl had disappeared. He looked down and saw the bottom of a Converse rush under him. She was fast.

Robyn scrambled to her feet after slipping under Tony and ran passed one of the bedrooms. She stopped and doubled back, seeing agents crowded in the tiny room. Before she could get more of a glimpse, McGee grabbed her in a vice like bear hug and picked her up, carrying her uncomfortably out of the room.

A glimpse was enough though. The body was facing the door, lying on her back. She saw those lifeless eyes. Blood had dried on the corner of her mouth and along the side of her face that was facing the ceiling. Despite all this, her hair was perfect. Wrapped in a flawless bun. Her hair was always perfect.

Robyn's stomach clenched so hard that she would have doubled over if McGee hadn't been holding her. She finally stopped fighting after a minute and he loosened his hold. McGee looked at Gibbs who had watched the events unfold.

"Stop playing dumb!" Richard shouted, standing in the living room. "You know that this is your fault! You're responsible! You ki-"

Tony turned to him sharply.

"Shut up, Dick!"

. . .

After seeing how Robyn was treated at home, the team knew they couldn't let her stay. They cleared it with Social Services as long as the investigation was in place. Richard had no arguments and neither did Robyn. The team tried to make conversation with her but were rewarded with stone like silence. The only movement she made was her hands fiddling with an old silver compass that she had dug out of her bag before they even started the car.

They arrived at the base and Gibbs took Robyn to what looked like a conference room, leaving the rest of the team to work. Robyn sat down in one of the chairs and just stared at her hands, still holding the small artifact. Gibbs left the room for a moment and when he returned, there was no change.

"Thought you might be thirsty." He said as he set a cold Coca-Cola can in front of her. She didn't move to touch it.

"Thanks…"

"She speaks."

This was answered with a shrug.

"Spoke to soon I suppose." Gibbs was patient. He wasn't worried. "Can I ask you some questions?"

"Foster mom." She corrected. "And you're going to ask anyway. So go for it."

Gibbs was having a hard time figuring this girl out. It was strange. "Can you tell me about the last time you saw her?"

There was a long pause before she finally spoke. "Last night. She was in the middle of making dinner and she got a phone call. I thought it was going to be one of her Marine buddies. I guess in a way it was."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't tell me. I kind of figured it out. She was leaving. Deployment. Don't know where. She didn't say anything about it. But she burned dinner. She never does that. And she was catatonic the rest of the night." Robyn explained.

"You're pretty smart."

Another shrug. "Whatever. Not smart enough to protect anybody."

"Are you really blaming yourself?" Gibbs asked, starting to think that Frost had actually made her believe it.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do?!" She shouted. Her hardened face immediately melted away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Never apologize."

"What?"

"Nevermind. We'll talk about that later. When did you leave the apartment?"

Robyn sighed, moving on from her outburst. "Around seven. I went to school."

"Why didn't you come back right after?"

She looked at him incredulously. "You remember Dick, right?"

Gibbs gave her a crooked smile. "Alright. That's fair. As far as that's concerned, we will make arrangements on where you will be staying tonight." He saw the distraught look on her face as he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be alright. I promise."

"Don't do that." She said quickly.

"Do what?"

"Promise. Don't do that. Everyone breaks promises. They don't mean anything."

Gibbs nodded, understanding. "Alright. I won't promise. But I know we will catch the killer." He said as he walked out of the room. Robyn knew he wanted her to follow. She stood up and left the room behind him, leaving the soda sitting on the table.

When they walked toward the bullpen, the team looked a little surprised. Robyn took a chair from one of the cubicles that wasn't being occupied and rolled it to the middle of the aisle, getting the perfect vantage point of each member of the team. To everyone's sheer amazement, she initiated the conversation. Within minutes, everyone was joking around, having a good time, even Robyn.

Even though DiNozzo was laughing, he knew that Robyn was hiding behind her humor. He used that same tactic. Like Gibbs, he recognized that look in her eye.


	2. Chapter 2

It was time for the team to retire for the night. Gibbs and Robyn were the last ones to go. Since Gibbs had been the one to get her to come out of her shell, even if it was just a little, everyone agreed that he should provide the place to stay.

It was late by the time they got back to Gibbs' house. The clock in the car read 0005. Robyn wondered how this old guy had found a car that had a military time preset. Judging by his haircut, she couldn't say that she was surprised. As they walked into the house, Robyn looked around in a kind of strange amazement.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked, watching her.

This caused the girl to snap out of her daze. "Y-yeah." She said simply. "Nice place. That's all."

Gibbs nodded. "Thanks." It was just a general house. Nothing special about it at all. Of course, he did keep in mind that she was a foster kid. Also, the apartment she came from was very tight, especially for a family of three.

"Are you hungry?" He asked softly.

Robyn shook her head. "No."

"Will you at least try to eat something?"

"No. I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten since who knows when."

"Okay. I'm just not hungry. After today, I really don't feel like my stomach can handle food." She was getting annoyed at his persistence, but he didn't seem to care.

Gibbs sighed. "You have to face it sometime you know."

Robyn gave him a crooked smile. "Nah. My method works."

"What exactly is your method?"

"Don't be a bitch and don't think about it." She said with a shrug.

"Ignore it." It was more of a statement than a question.

"That's the plan. Why do you care so much about how I deal anyway?"

"Don't." Gibbs responded with a shrug that mocked hers from earlier. He got the reaction he was looking for. She was almost angry and very confused. "But I just know the right way and the wrong way to hold onto things." He cared. He cared a lot, but he felt like he was starting to understand this girl. The only way she would respond to anything was to make it seem like it was her idea.

"I'm not holding on to anything." She said quickly. "In fact, I already let it go."

"Not thinking isn't the same as letting it go."

"Of course it is. It can't bother you if you don't think about it."

"Until it does." His voice was calm as he eyed her expectantly.

"Okay Ghandi." Her voice rose, almost yelling. "I think I'm going to sleep."

Gibbs gave her a half smile and pointed. "Down the hall, first door on your left. That's your room."

She glanced down the hall. Now the look of stark confusion on her face was too much to ignore. He almost asked what was wrong before he noticed her glance her eyes back to the couch. That was where she had expected to sleep. She hadn't known that she would be given a room. She had grown up being given nothing and fighting for everything. The scrapes on her knuckles was a clear sign of that. Finally, she looked back at Gibbs.

"Thanks." She swiped her pack off the floor and started down the hall. He waited for the door to shut before he proceeded down to the basement to work on his project. It was about two hours later when he heard footsteps coming down the wooden steps.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked when she was already halfway down.

"No." She muttered. She looked tired. "Why are you building a boat in your basement?"

"Keeps me busy." His answer seemed too simple for her, but she didn't press. "You want to help?"

"I'll mess it up."

He tossed her a sander anyway, almost like he hadn't heard her. "With the grain. Not against." Was his only direction.

She looked down at the sander and then at the boat and stood in front of one of the ribs. Before she even thought about bringing the sander near it, she placed her fingertips on the wood of the boat, trying to find the motion. After a minute, she brought the sander up and started working. They worked for a while before Gibbs heard the sanding stop and looked up from what he was doing to see what was wrong.

"She was killed in my room." Robyn stated.

"I know."

She looked over at him and opened her mouth to continue, but no sound came out. She promptly closed it again.

"You know that this had nothing to do with you."

"How the fuck do you know?" She snapped. Gibbs let her get away with it this time. "Why was she even in my room?"

"We don't know yet."

She stared hard at the sander in her hands. "She was the only thing close to a parent that I had. And she wasn't even that good at it. More like a sister that just let me do whatever I wanted. It was fine."

"Was it?"

"I don't know. I mean, I just had to sidestep Dick every now and then but, whatever. And I didn't like sleeping there, but that was fine too. The point is, she was the only one that would take me. Something about a 'temper' and 'too many disciplinary problems'." A sarcastic chuckle escaped her. "I was getting better. Sort of. In some ways, anyway." She paused for just a moment. "And then she goes and dies."

"You understand that this isn't your fault, right?" Gibbs asked finally.

"Who's fault is it, then?!" She shouted. "Everyone good that I touch, dies! Or something terrible happens! I'm a walking plague!"

"Look, I know that you're scared, but-"

"I'm not fucking scared!"

Gibbs gave her a look and continued, "You haven't had it easy. I'm not going to lie to you and say that everything happens for a reason. Sometimes you just meet terrible people and sometimes they are the ones that get by without a single consequence. But that's because people let them." Gibbs saw her face change. Now she looked scared without a shadow of a doubt. She put the sander down and crossed her arms in front of her. Now, she wouldn't make eye contact. "And sometimes good people lose." He continued, pretending not to notice for right now.

She wouldn't speak. For some reason, what he had said had shaken her. Literally. Gibbs looked at her hands which she had tried to hide behind her arms, but he could see a slight tremble.

"I'm going to sleep." She muttered as she stared at the ground.

Gibbs sighed and nodded, not like she would see. He watched her turn and begin ascending the stairs. Her blue eyes looked almost stark grey. Whatever he had said must have felt like a solid punch to the gut. He had to figure out why.

Soon after Robyn had left, Gibbs put away most of his tools and began heading to bed himself. As he walked passed the room where Robyn slept, he heard a strange whimpering. He put his ear to the door and realized that she was in fact crying. He put a hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it. The door creaked lowly as he pushed it open.

"Robyn?" He said gently.

No response. The whimpering continued.

He got closer. "Robyn." He said again as he took another step. It was at that point that he realized she was asleep. Something wasn't right. He understood the only parent she ever had was gone, but this kind of emotional turmoil had to be from something else. Years and years of something else. Gibbs left her alone and exited the room, closing the door gently behind him.

He hoped he was wrong. He prayed that he was wrong.

. . .

"Tony! You said you would forget about the whole spitball thing!" McGee exclaimed obviously flustered. Tony, who now sported a band-aid on the corner of his mouth just laughed sarcastically at the angry Probie, who was not trying to get his hand out of the vending machine.

"Oh yeah. I guess I forgot." He says with a slight shrug, hiding his grin. "Well, we can let bygones be bygones and just let it go." Tony said, suppressing a burst of hilarity.

"Tony! Get my hand out!" McGee shouted, his hand starting to ache due to the pressure of the little door.

"Say please." Tony said with a smirk.

With a sigh, McGee swallowed his pride and said, "Please…?"

"Now that wasn't too hard now was it Probie?" Tony said getting behind McGee and started to help him retrieve his hand.

At that moment the sound of an elevator door opening was heard. Robyn and Gibbs stepped out of it, and the first thing they were greeted by was two men at a vending machine. One was bent over, grunting and making strange, suggestive movements that caused Robyn's jaw to drop. Tony glanced behind him, seeing Gibbs with a coffee in hand and a look that nobody could read, but it was nothing good. It disappeared quickly as it was followed by the classic Gibbs glare.

"Boss!" Tony shouted as he got as far away from McGee as he could with the little time that he had. "Um…McKlutz got his hand stuck in the vending machine and I was tryin-"Tony said exasperated, trying to explain before he was cut off by Gibbs.

"Just get his hand out and get to work before McGee has to report you for sexual harassment." He demanded and began walking away as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Robyn had just started inching away from the scene, holding back laughter as she saw Tony's face get redder and redder. She peeled herself away, finding no words that would make the situation better.

"Please tell me it was only Gibbs…" McGee groaned

"Remember the kid from yesterday?" Tony asked, unable to even look at McGee now.

"Oh no…"

"Oh, yes."

. . .

As the day went on, Robyn kept herself busy alternating between the forensics lab and autopsy. The rest of the team were busy working on the case. McGee, who was now the proud owner of a searing red hand, glared at Tony every few minutes. The silence in the bullpen was only broken by the sound of a few telephone rings every now and then and distant mumbling until McGee finally broke it.

"She was leaving!"

"We know, McGoof." Tony stated. "Robyn said that yesterday that she was getting deployed. We confirmed it. Or were you too busy getting a Snickers bar at the vending machine?" He finished with a slight smirk.

"No, I mean." He paused, ignoring Tony's last comment. "Why would she be in Robyn's room, packing her stuff? Unless she decided to-"

"Skate out." Ziva finished.

"Skip, Ziva. Skip out." Tony corrected, clearly annoying the female agent.

"Right. She knew that Frost would refuse to take care of her while she was gone." McGee continued. Gibbs walked up as the discussion was going on.

"So, did someone find out? And that's why?" Ziva asked, contemplating.

"How would they have known? She wasn't supposed to report in for training until next week." Tony explained.

"Unless they had been planning to do this for a while and they saw their window of opportunity closing." McGee stated, now deep in thought.

Gibbs watched as his team worked, proud of what they had come up with. But, he knew something didn't fit.

"Keep digging." Was his only order as he left the bullpen once again, making his way to the forensics lab.

. . .

Gibbs stepped out of the elevator and heard a very animated conversation going on as the glass door slid open.

"There is no way you can do that! That's insane!" Came Robyn's voice. Gibbs was stunned. She was usually so intense beyond her years. But now, she seemed like a normal teenager.

"I so can! I'll prov-" Abby's voice was cut off the moment she saw Gibbs. Noticing the sudden silence, Robyn spun around on her stool so that she was facing him.

"Hey, Gibbs!" They greeted in unison. When Robyn was smiling, she looked so familiar. He just couldn't place it.

He walked over and placed a Caf-Pow he had brought for Abby on the counter.

"What do you got?" He asked, giving Robyn a warning look. He didn't want her around when they talked about the murder.

"It's okay, Gibbs." Abby said, noticing his look. "I haven't found much. I just ran some fingerprints and the fresh ones are all a match for the people who lived there.

"Richard?" Gibbs asked, glancing at Robyn when he said it. He watched her face harden suddenly. This made his stomach clench. This was the confirmation he had been looking for.

"Well, yeah." Abby stated simply.

Gibbs kept a heavy sigh inside as he walked up to Abby, whispering in her ear. "Don't let her go down to Autopsy. Ducky started half an hour ago."

Abby nodded in return and Gibbs kissed her forehead before turning to leave.

. . .

"Oh! Jethro! Just the man I wanted to see!" Ducky said brightly as the body of Sara Frost lay cut open on the autopsy table.

"What do you got for me, Duck?"

"Well, the cause of death is rather simple. Four knife wounds to the chest. The first blow is what killed her. The second would have been just for good measure, but the killer stabbed her three more times. Now, I'm no psychologist, but that seems to me that this was-"

"An act of passion." Gibbs finished

"Doctor!" Palmer said, trying to grab their attention. "Could you look at this?"

Both Ducky and Gibbs walked over to the body. Jimmy pointed to one of the ribs where a small piece of metal was jutting out of it, embedded deeply into the bone. He pulled the shard out with a large pair of tweezers and dropped it into a small metal bowl to examine it.

"The tip of the knife?" Palmer asked, looking for confirmation.

"That is certainly what it looks like." Ducky answered. "Would you be so kind as to send this up to Abby for testing, Jimmy?" Ducky asked, handing Palmer the bowl with the metal.

"Yes sir." He said quickly as he rushed out of the room towards Abby's lab.

"Anything else, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, well, look here." Ducky said moving up towards the head of the body. He pointed directly at her lips.

"Do you see the slight smudging of her lipstick here?"

Gibbs nodded, "Yeah."

"Well, I believe that after she died, the last act of passion the killer could have fulfilled was a kiss goodbye. I attempted to get a viable DNA sample and sent it up to Abby. She should have the results at any moment.

"Thanks Duck." Gibbs said simply as he started walking out of the room.

"Hey, Jethro." Ducky stopped him.

"Yes?" Gibbs asked, turning around to face him.

"How is our little friend doing?" He asked, almost looking concerned.

Gibbs gave a small, half smile. "She's doing okay. I wouldn't be surprised if her and Abby kept in touch after this thing is over."

"Good…good." Ducky responded softly.

"You okay, Duck?"

"Yes, it's just that… has she exhibited any emotion towards what happened to her foster mother? Tears, perhaps?"

"Well, no tears from what I've seen, but she did talk about her a little bit last night."

"Did you ever get the notion that she blames herself?" Ducky asked, getting to the heart of what he wanted to talk about.

"Well, yeah. But that's normal, isn't it?"

"Yes, but not to this degree."

"What are you thinking, Duck?"

"I'm thinking… that she is blaming herself to the point where she feels as if she needs to make it right. To let herself off the hook, if you will. Which means-"

"Revenge…" Gibbs muttered.

"Precisely…"


End file.
